


Awake

by netovich8



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Angst, Everyday Life, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:25:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netovich8/pseuds/netovich8
Summary: reality shifts, Alaska, idiosyncrasies, huskies, Jack feeling too many emotions. who knows what’ll happen





	1. Chapter 1

“Think the Russians will take back Alaska?” Jack, lightheaded, not having slept, crawled back onto the bed.

Pale light was just beginning to stream through the blinds. A 10:30 am sunrise, not too bad for the seasonally-depressed. In fact, Jack had experienced just the opposite. It was a different kind of darkness here, more mellow than in the city. The 20 lamps David had brought home last week hadn’t hurt either.

David mumbled something and a mountain of blankets rolled over.

“Hey.” Jack climbed over his collection of afghans, straddling them where David's face must be and waiting until he heard a muffled protest.

“Hmm, sleepy.” Jack felt embarrassingly giddy but couldn't make himself care how stupid he sounded. “A fatal mistake.”

“I’d say they’ve missed their chance.”

Jack pulled down the top blanket and looked down on his friend, brushing his forehead lightly. “You look like shit.”

David stretched slowly, eyes still closed. Then he grasped Jack’s shoulders and pushed him upwards into the light, making him squint. He turned his head slightly. “That so?” he muttered. “Guess you haven’t really rubbed off on me yet.”

Jack did his best to snake out of his grip and in a single motion ripped off the rest of David’s protective layers.

What the hell was he wearing? Jack climbed his hands over the plaid flannel 80s atrocity, unbuttoning it slowly. “I forgot to tell you before, I like your shirt.”

David eyed him meaningfully.

“I mean it. You look like you belong here.”

“Mmm, yeah,” was the empty answer. David was a clam, but Jack didn’t mind, liked it even. The landscape was equally impenetrable, perfect for him. And Jack knew regardless that David had found something here he liked. The dogs and cabin had come later, after all. Where had he stayed before then? Jack didn’t expect to find out.

Jack finished with the garish buttons, fingering them slowly. The last one was coming loose. He’d sew it later, some time.

David’s broad chest, gently rising and falling, stared back at him. No matter how many times he saw it, it would always strike him as unusually stiff and smooth, perfect beyond what it should be, like it had come from a mold. But he knew it was real, it was David’s, and as he kissed it he made it his, giving it more life, pressing himself into it. They breathed together, roughly, instinctively, and Jack felt his senses overcoming him, his mind falling helplessly away.

David looked at him like there was something deeply confusing that he was trying to understand. This man, reliant on no one, by some incomprehensible circumstances had come to need him, and Jack knew it. It didn’t matter if David couldn’t admit it. He had no reason to. It was Jack who owed him everything for this life apart from the world. It was what he had needed, not knowing it until he was here.

An old blistered couch in a wasteland of beer cans, his New York apartment, he could remember only vaguely now. Some Alaska it had been. A hideout with a single gray window he’d never bothered to open. He’d tried to drink himself out of it, he supposed, or maybe he just didn’t know what he was doing at the time. Where had it taken him? His mind had been so foggy he didn’t know. Had David seen him in that mess he would have died. But he’d made it to the airport, somehow, and now he was here.

“Dave,” he said unsteadily, and David pulled away slightly, stretching his arms above him, rolling back his shoulders. Why had his voice been so scratchy lately? He felt like a kid again, not really in control of himself.

“Yeah, kid.”

Jack wanted to protest but the effort was too much, painfully unnecessary. David would do what he wanted. And Jack knew he meant it fondly.

The morning passed, and Jack didn’t notice. He let David’s head rest on his shoulder as he fell back asleep, then carefully slipped away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might as well lol

11:30. Jack had been sitting at the kitchen table for what seemed like much longer, but he just couldn’t work up the energy to move. Where had this haziness come from? Apart from last two days he’d been sleeping so much lately, like never before in his life. David’s bed wasn’t anything special, but having an older man beside him was unlike anything else he’d let himself do before. Not something he’d wanted to do, at least, until now. Rose had always pushed to keep him beside her, to stay in bed despite the insomnia, which just made the restlessness and boredom all the more insufferable. He’d done it because she wanted it, but it did nothing to stop the feeling that he was some kind of imposter beside her, or had ended up there by accident. 

He was letting himself think too much. David would be up soon, and he should make breakfast before then. He'd done nearly everything lately while Jack had just been wasting time: drinking, reading the old logs David had lying around, sleeping, poking around David’s strange stuff. He wouldn’t have expected someone like him to accumulate so much, but he figured it was just something that happens. 

The kitchen cabinets were all dark wood with patterns in the grain, definitely not new given the way they creaked. David only used two of them, it looked like, everything crammed together in a near-booby trap. Suddenly curious, Jack started opening everything before he realized that it’d be weird if he made it look like he’d ransacked the place, and quietly as he could closed them all again. 

Eggs, that’s what he should make. He carefully wheedled a pan out of David’s clusterfuck of dishes and got to work. It had been a long time since he’d cooked. He wasn’t good at it; Rose usually took over and stopped him from ruining everything. 

God, why was he still thinking about her? He didn’t want to think about her or his apartment or anything in New York. That was all gone now, thank God; he was here now! Jack shuddered involuntarily, feeling the cold crawling all over his body. Let him freeze out here, he wouldn’t go anywhere beyond the cornershop until he got over himself and everything else. He pulled two beers from the fridge and tried to open them quietly. He’d make a fire for David, then feed the dogs, then . . . he’d figure out what else later. 

He heard the bed creak from down the hall and soon David came shuffling out, head hanging and groggy as hell. Jack certainly didn’t blame him; he’d been out a good part of the night with the dogs, unless that was two days ago? Didn’t matter. 

“Morning,” mumbled David with his eyes half open. 

Jack lightly kissed his chin and flipped a pile of unfortunately browned eggs onto a plate. “I made eggs.”

“I see.”

“I tried.”

“S’fine,” grumbled David. Cigarettes and mornings together really made him sound like a bottle of rocks. 

Jack finished his shitty beer and pulled out another. One more, and he wouldn’t feel so bad about eating through Hal’s money. David looked side-eyed at him, but Jack was more than used to disapproval and chose to ignore it. Cigarettes, beer, was there so much of a difference? Dave would drink with him later anyway, he knew it. 

David creaked onto a covered chair and ate six eggs in approximately two minutes. Jack looked at the ceiling, feeling the warm haze settle over him, and looked unsteadily around the room. He grabbed some kind of worn footstool from under the table and pulled up next to David, sitting awkwardly cross-legged a full foot lower. He leaned into David’s side and felt the smell of tobacco clouding his face. He was warm; Jack uncomfortably cold. He crawled a hand under David's plaid and felt his way up his back, as high as he could reach, and felt him twitch slightly from his icy fingers. 

“I’ll get a job,” he said. Dave laughed with his eyes. 

“I can, you know,” he said, losing most of his usual defiance. “Once I, you know, figure things out.”

“Suit yourself.” David smiled with half of his mouth. Jack kissed that cheek and took one of his hands from the table and turned it over in front of him, admiring his fingernails. They were dirty and kind of long, which for some reason struck him as funny. 

“Already crocked, are you?” 

Jack put his head in Dave’s lap and looked up sideways at him. “It’s OK, you know. I’m better like this, sometimes.”

“Mmng, whatever that means.”

“I’ll make a fire.” Jack got up slowly, stretched and tried to correct his posture. Then David was behind him, kneading his fingers softly into his shoulder blades. Jack felt his whole body relax. It was so good. Everything was so good. 

“You gotta be careful with that. I’ll take the fire, you feed the dogs.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bliss. Jack was slowly setting himself free. If this wasn’t freedom, he would never have it. He felt nearly too heavy to move in David’s huge coat, barely hanging onto any train of thought that might keep him from sleep, only conscious because of those strange rushes throughout his body. If he closed his eyes, he might have just been running. It was the same contented exhaustion. 

The orange snow stretched out in front of him, tinted from the sunglasses Hal had left at their place sometime last week. He didn’t remember putting them on, just felt them when he moved his nose. Strange glasses. Hal seemed to be bringing more things over lately, none of which would constitute a normal house gift. But David’s cabin was already a kind of strange emporium, so maybe Hal knew exactly what he was doing. 

—

He lit every lamp in the house and even found a candle. A taper, but not the emergency kind. It was green. He asked David where it was from. 

“Mmn, a present.”

He pried a little further and found out it wasn’t gifted _to_ David, but something “meant for an old friend.” Not surprisingly it hadn’t made it there. Jack had almost laughed at him, but didn’t want to fuel any unwelcome memories. Nevertheless, the idea of David at the store picking out a candle for someone was too far beyond him for any other reaction. Or maybe it was just the idea of present-giving in general? It had always made Jack uncomfortable, so he didn’t do it. 

That stupid candle had sent him into a tunnel of questions. He was on the other side of David now, he realized, and that made every other thing he did out of character. Especially the small things. David had been too grand for the trifles of life, and it made Jack want to throw them away as well. He was even good at it. But of course that was just a lucky character trait assigned to him. David _should have been_ beyond all that; it was an old impression. 

He had only had one drink, had even sipped it slowly like it was up to him. He found the candle wrapped in brown paper in the bottom drawer of the cabinet in one of the spare rooms and stole David’s lighter. No candleholder, so he held the lighter to the base and stuck the hot wax into a bowl. 

The room was warm now. He had boiled water to fight the dryness, but his lips still cracked. How did David stop his lips from bleeding, his hands? They were rough, but not chapped like Jack’s. It had only been a month and here he was, a ripped up canvas of Alaskan weather. 

He heard the creak of the door and the muffled stomping of boots, then Hal’s clear voice and David’s rocks. 

"Look at all this!” Hal stepped into the overwhelming glow of the kitchen, hands in the pockets of a very inadequate coat. 

David followed him and nodded with some kind of approval. “Might need some sunglasses. Think I got too many?”

“Nah, I like it,” said Hal. “But funny enough, I have some here.” 

“Hello,” said Jack. He was too good at blending into the wall. Dave laughed, crossed the room in three strides and wrapped his arm around the enormous rabbit-fur coat, pulled off Jack’s hood and fluffed his hair before putting the hood back on. "I'm not a dog, you know . . ." Jack thought for a moment that Dave had winked at him, but it was just his hair in his eye. 

While Hal was fishing around in a plastic bag, David took out another bag from somewhere and held it up. “Fish,” he said. “For the dogs and for us. Gotta go unhitch them first though.”

“You rode the sled here?? God damn it!” Jack knew he should be used to this shit by now, but it was still funny to see the stupid ways that David squeezed a thrill out of life. 

Dave looked highly amused. “Had to show Hal the new setup . . .”

“Hey, it wasn’t so bad,” said Hal, waving his sunglasses. “I’m only five miles away.”

Jack hadn’t realized there was anywhere to stay that close. Hal had showed up, what, two weeks ago? The nearest airport and any kind of hotel was two hours away in the best kind of weather. Jack had only been to the center of town a few times and found hardly more than an old pharmacy, grocery and hardware store. A comfortable isolation. It wasn’t like this place was a hotspot for visitors. 

David saw Jack’s confusion and gave in. “He’s kidding. I’ll be right back.”

The cod was hard as cement, but Hal was convinced they could still cook it without thawing. “I’m no chef, but I tell you, I’ve seen people do it. It just takes longer.” Jack took the opportunity to back out of the kitchen with the bottle of scotch he’d been saving for some reason. 

He could only barely make out the fireplace now, just from the red of the embers. The lamp in the room had gone out. 19 still going strong. Jack felt around for the poker and pushed the coal around, threw in more kindling. Never before this year had he built a fire in a fireplace. It was really the place to be. This is where they should sleep; why hadn’t he thought of that before?

—

David lit a cigarette from the candle flame, his features magnified by the light. Jack sat across from him, Hal to his left. The fish wasn’t terrible. The candle burned slowly and dripped onto the bowl. Hal spun the glasses around in his hand, talking with David about something Jack didn't remember later. 


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks ago, David’s radio had been a mess of static, but the reception was perfect now. Jack hadn’t really thought about it until Hal, bent intently over the old box, fiddled for an excessive amount of time with the stations. He pushed his sunglasses back and tapped one lens with his index finger. “Handy, aren’t they? I finally got it right this past month. Thought you might like some actual music out here.”

“. . . How?” Jack zoned out while he explained, but was impressed nonetheless. 

“Why glasses though?” Jack felt a spell of fear as soon as he asked, realizing he’d told Hal everything about Emma the day he’d been with her. 

But he’d been wrong, thankfully. Hal just grinned. “‘Cause they’re cool. And you’re both trying to blind me out here.”

David went out with a back-handed wave. 

Hal’s expression changed, his eyes kind. “He’s happy you’re here, you know.”

Jack felt a tinge of surprise despite the fact that he already knew, without question. But David would say something like that to Hal?

“No,” Hal said somewhat dejectedly and shook his head. “But trust me, I can tell. And he talks about you . . . more than a little. You’d think you’d been friends since childhood or something.”

Jack tried to shake off the idea, but whatever Hal thought he had to believe to some extent. 

“And he’s got plans, you know. Don’t worry, I won’t spoil anything.”

Hal, psychic in the moment, read Jack’s fear and excitement and laughed, leaning back against the table. His shoes were completely soaked, but he didn’t seem to care. David hadn’t lent him boots? Unbelievable. 

“Anyway, I’ll leave these here.” Hal folded the glasses and set them gently on the table. “Don’t know how long I’ll be staying, but I’m not exactly in a hurry. Actually I don’t have any official work at all right now, so more time for—“ He waved around, looking for words. 

“Alaska,” said Jack. 

Hal smiled as often as David grimaced. “Yeah, right. I mean, come on, I had to see what you both had going on out here.”

“It’s all him,” Jack retreated. “I just showed up. I mean, I called first, but . . .”

Hal heard him out but wouldn’t let him dig himself into too deep a hole. “Hey, don’t forget what I said.”

It made Jack unusually calm. Hal was so reassuring, trustworthy, reliable. David, of course, was reliable too, but reliable in the way you could expect a rock not to move unless it was swept up in an avalanche. 

“Do you want to, uh, take off your shoes?” 

Hal looked down and laughed again. “Yeah, sure, I mean . . . I really got wrapped up in the glasses, didn’t I?”


	5. Chapter 5

Jack wanted to wring his brain out, or better, bury it in the snow. He watched from a ways off the huskies jumping around, how far their legs sunk down. The ground could be gone and he wouldn’t know. 

He watched how David ripped around with them like a kid and fought the urge to walk out to them. Sick aches were wringing him out like a wet rag, everything except his brain. He might as well have been cemented to the porch. 

God, how he wanted to move. But where on earth was there to go now? Not inside. The heat of the cabin and the fever, they were trying to kill him. If not that, one more hour in bed and he felt sure that any surviving part of his mind would shut down from boredom and take the rest of him with it. 

His life, at its worst, always came back to a bed, the expectation of sleep, and his body fucking him over. 

David stopped for a moment, hands on his knees, squatted with a dog under one arm. Jack still didn’t have their names down yet, but what could he say? It was a lot of friends to make at once. David gave him a full-arm wave. Jack tried to stand up and fared badly. 

—

He woke up in total darkness. What time was it? David’s digital clock had taken a hit when the lamps blew out the fuse and now there was nothing to guide him. Just 10-15 minutes to wait. But the felt the absence of the fever and some other weight was gone too. He could breathe now, and the apprehension was gone. 

He felt for David beside him but only found the wool of his blankets. Had he gone out again? It was like the night drew him out to be with the dogs. Jack understood how it might be peaceful, but in Alaska? Wasn’t it dangerous? Then he remembered who he was worrying about and could have laughed if he wasn’t so weak. 

The wind hummed outside the window and Jack let himself sink halfway into sleep, trying not to hold onto the surprise that he could and ruin it all. He listened to his nonsensical thoughts that so wanted to become dreams. Time could even slow down if it wanted to, he wouldn’t have cared. 

As if it was all a joke, he heard the creak of the door a few minutes later. Some rustling, and the thud of dishes on the counter. For some reason he wondered what Dave was thinking about at that moment. Something Jack wouldn't understand. 

David entered the bedroom with slow footsteps and Jack turned himself over carefully to face the two orbs approaching him. A cigarette and a white taper, burning steadily in David’s own kind of religious ceremony. 

Disoriented with his fever, the surreality of it all struck Jack twice as hard and he sat up without realizing it hurt. “Hi, Dave,” he said. His voice in no way matched the thought behind it. 

“Brought you some stuff, ah—!“ hot wax reached his fingers and David shook his hand and the candle went out. “Damn.” He sunk down to one knee and Jack heard the flick of the lighter. He tried to sit up higher in bed but stopped when David got up suddenly. “Hang on, kid, I’ve got a few things to figure out before you get moving.”

“Were you . . . with the dogs?”

“Mm, you could say that.” Jack wasn’t sure what else he expected to hear, but somehow this time it made him happy that he didn’t know what was going on. 

“Hal was here yesterday, right?”

David did his best to comfort him as soon as Jack learned he’d remembered wrong again. “He comes over a lot, kid. You’ve been sick as a pig.” Jack watched him reach for the cigarette dish beside the bed and slowly grind the butt into it. The fact that he smoked was horrendous, of course, but watching him do it made Jack feel at ease. 

He stared at the dark ceiling while David retreated into the kitchen with his saboteur-candle. He closed his eyes again, wondering at the fact that the pit of sickness wasn't pulling him into depression. 

—

 _Oh my god, again. Please let me stay in one place long enough to understand something._ He felt hot, but not like before. He was trapped under heavy blankets, but also not uncomfortably. Jack turned his head, found his arms, and with some effort crawled out into the open. 

Dave was beside him, staring blankly into the fire. Jack reached out a hand for his knee but David caught his fingers first and closed his hand over them, tightly, and nearly pulled him across the floor. The annoyance that Jack thought undetectable just made him smile, the cigarette hanging from his lip turning upwards. 

“Gave you a lift. It’s good to see you up.”

Jack could have played along but decided instead to fall onto his lap and let David stroke his back. He felt it in every part of his body, his chest unraveling and losing its stiffness. “Jack,” he heard against the crackling of the fire. His name like that in David’s mouth, God in heaven.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up! things get steamy

He woke up to the radio blaring as loud as he’d ever heard it. Some generic 80s song. David liked that shit, even had several boxes of records, but for whatever reason no record player. Everything in the house was that way. Half-finished, missing something, or near-worthless to anyone else. 

He came into the room and found Jack on the floor stretched out as if about to make a snow angel. Looking nowhere, he sat down beside him and folded the hem of Jack’s loose shirt out of his way. They sat in silence. Jack felt for maybe the first time with him that there was absolutely nothing to say. If he opened his mouth, nothing would happen, and that was fine. He had made it over some irritating barrier that had been nagging at him to maintain himself as someone worthy of respect, to defend every move he made and say the right things. He didn’t even know what the wrong things would be, and yet . . . he was out of control, as always. 

David, staring between the smudged knees of his cargo pants, suddenly reinterpreted Jack’s position and did what he’d wanted. The radio fell into static for a moment, then began pounding out a new baseline. David sunk lower into him. His breath was so heavy that it was almost worrying, but Jack couldn’t worry anymore. It was so warm against his chin. His whole body reacted with a horrible electricity and he raked his fingers through David’s hair, pulling his head back and admiring every inch of his face. David looked down on him with glinting eyes. 

“You—“ he said before David’s strong hands closed gently around his neck, thumbs tracing his jawline and the faint hairs on his chin. His nose brushed Jack’s with the slightest dampness of sweat. David was a fountain of pure energy, and Jack gave in to it all and let himself go limp. 

His longing was coming to a head. There was no way out of it. Even if David didn’t take him now, it was worth the shame. He would be ashamed either way. He grabbed David’s bulge and fingered it, delighting in the little jump he gave. He loved that he could startle someone so untouchable. 

“More,” Jack whispered with a dry tongue. 

He clung to the whole of David as if on the verge of death. 

David reached for his belt, then Jack’s, ripping it off of him without breaking eye contact. Jack flinched, helpless. And yet he couldn’t look anywhere else. He raised a hand to David’s rough cheek in a sad attempt to interrupt the lock David had on him. He had never in his life been looked at like that. David’s eyes could break into his mind, but Jack knew he wouldn’t want to. 

He finally let his eyes fall to David’s chest and closed them. He felt David’s hand on his stomach, drawing slow descending circles. David breathed in his face. 

“You . . . aren’t afraid of getting sick?”

David’s expression was enough to shut him up immediately. “I don’t get sick.” 

He stuck his tongue deep into Jack’s mouth. His chin pressed painfully against Jack’s and made him pull away with a sharp breath, hating himself for not withstanding it. He bit David’s earlobe in response, tugged on it, teasing him as David rolled back his head, giving him full reign. Not feeling particularly merciful, Jack plunged his tongue into his ear and kissed it violently, laughing in a whisper as David contorted beneath him. 

He traced the coarse trails of hair down David’s abdomen and closed his fingers around his cock, lifted it, let go and listened to the thud it made on his stomach. A thick, hollow sound. He pressed into it and fell into deep thrusts, feeling David’s skin and muscle moving in sync underneath him. David grasped his thighs, hands rough and warm, kissing him with the lines on his palms. 

He was perfectly, terribly helpless. Shivers of ecstasy crawled up from his legs. Jack gasped against the tightness of his chest. His lips parted, head bent, his hair fell around David’s face. He sucked in the weight of David’s scent and lost his mind. A part of him dislodged and simply floated away. He would be anything Dave wanted. Something to play with, ravage, even destroy. There was nothing to be on his own. He was no one for his own sake, an empty body for David to fill. 

“Dave—” He was just trying to speak, but his voice was ready to cry out and cracked in exhaustion. Whiny, weak, strung out. David forced him downwards, a hand cradling his neck. 

His lips on Jack’s cheek, talking into him: “Tell me.”

“You’re . . . dirty.” 

David turned his head and blinked to consider all the implications of this incredible insight. 

“Filthy.” He ran his thumb over the ridge of David’s right cheek and collected the dust of ash from the fire. Amazing how he walked around like that. 

Jack won himself a crooked smile and lept up without thinking to take David’s hand. He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “Shower. Let’s go.”

David’s look of amusement intensified, which only turned Jack on more. He pulled David behind him and made it halfway down the hall before both of his asscheeks were in David’s hands. 

“Stalling now, huh?”

David grinned and squeezed harder, rolling both hands around. He slapped one cheek lightly. “I’m in no rush.”

Five minutes later Jack had managed to get the water on and turned to the right temperature without falling while David played with his ass and refused to help. “It was your idea, kid.” 

Jack took over, pouring over him while he let him hog the water. David stood deftly, eyes closed, water running over his eyelashes and down his cheeks, over his chin and onto Jack as he kissed his chest and the changing patterns in his wet hair. His hips . . . Jack slid his down his sides and over the rounded bones of his pelvis, incredibly smooth. He paused and reached for the bar of soap. 

He dropped it and David’s eyes opened to laugh at and forgive him. “I’ll take that,” he said. “Turn around.” 

Jack obeyed and waited for David taking his goddamn time working a lather from the soap while Jack tried not to shiver in the cold. He figured David enjoyed making him wait like this and watching him squirm. There were goosebumps on every part of him now, but it wasn’t the right time for bouncing up and down.

Without warning David grabbed him from behind, arms around his waist, and forced him into the relief of the water. With David’s hands sliding over his abdomen it was so much, almost too much for his senses at once. Jack didn’t know what to do against anticipation like this. His body wanted to shake but he wouldn’t let it, and it was torturing him. 

Only the water and the pressure of David against him was keeping him in check. He steadiest himself against the tile wall, David’s cock caught between his asscheeks. David sunk deeper into him, helping it along with his finger, amazingly gentle when it mattered. Jack felt the air trapped in his throat before he made some strange sound with David’s lips in his ear. “Mmm, yeah?”

“Yes,” he gasped. “Please.”

He could feel David’s smile against the back of his neck as he pushed deeper into him, massaging one of Jack’s thighs with little circles as a kind distraction. “So feminine,” he murmured. “I always liked that.” 

Jack let his head fall back into the crook of David’s neck. 

David held his chest as he worked into a thrust, slowly at first, giving Jack a chance to feel all of it. He was holding out, Jack could tell. So much restraint. He guided Jack with his whole body at once. His head bent over him, his hands protecting him from whatever would stop them. 

He clutched Jack’s sides and Jack reveled in the sudden pain. 

_Yes, yes, hurt me like you love me._

His hands over David’s, his mouth slightly open. Jack didn’t think at all. David’s wet fingers pressed into his stomach and his face buried in Jack’s hair as he came, still pushing Jack against him, slowing, releasing his grip to stroke his stomach. 

Freed, Jack turned to him, bent down and kissed the head of his cock. “My turn.” David’s look said there was nothing in the world he would rather do.


End file.
